On the Pleasures of Fishing
Apr. 20th, 2005 06:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urbpanOn the Pleasures of Fishing
A Personal Recollection and Refutation.
(or "Boy, is it gonna be awkward if my Father-in-Law reads this")
As a boy I occasionally fished, dipping an impaled earthworm into a pond to entice a puny sunfish out. I even owned a fishing rod--a collapsable one of the kind sold on television, treasured more for its value as a gadget than for its practical use. But I haven't fished since my high school graduation party, a weekend-long affair at a Vermont lake. That was the scene of two grisly fishing mishaps, perhaps not coincidentally involving the only fish I've ever caught that weren't sunfish (or "pumpkinseeds" as we called them). One tiny perch swallowed the bait, hook and all, and was found floating the next day with the detached end of the line still sticking out of its gape. And then a bass I released from a high dock hit the water on the second bounce after striking floating wood, and then floated there itself. But these are the pains of fishing, and I intend to speak of its pleasures, and ultimately, why I do not partake in them.
1. The Pleasure of Standing by the Water, Doing Nothing.
The shore is a beautiful place, with the sound of the water gently lapping and the sun dancing on the ripples. With a fishing pole in your hand you can remain there for hours on end, letting the thoughts drift in and out of your head. Without the fishing pole, after a while you look like a dolt; you get tired and bored and sit down; after about 20 minutes, without the futile task of impaling worms and suffocating fish out of the water, you realize there's no reason for you to sit there, and your butt is cold and damp.
2. The Pleasure of Drinking Beer in a Boat.
I've never done this myself, but I understand that its common among anglers. Without fishing, you're some dangerous idiot, drinking beer on a boat. With fishing you're a "sportsman."
3. The Pleasure of Close Interaction with Animals.
In all honesty, this is why I fished. You can turn over rocks to look at bugs, you can visit farms and zoos, but nothing compares to the thrill of dragging an animal out of nature by its lip. Pumpkinseeds aren't the most majestic fish to behold (and you have to watch how you behold them! They can erect their dorsal fin into a row of sharp spines) but fishing is certainly the most efficient way to get a close look at them.
Anyway, I was much better at angling for rock crabs at the seashore. New England's rocky coast and stone breakwaters are terrific habitat for millions of these squat, toadlike crustaceans. I would smash a mussel with a rock, tie a string around it, drop it into a likely crevice, and in no time pull a crab up to the surface. They clung tenaciously to the bait, attached by stubbornness instead of a metal hook. Crabs are also more interesting to observe on land than fish. While fish merely die in slow, silent agony, crabs scuttle about, waving their pincers menacingly, before finding their way back to the cold water. This pastime was surely no fun for the mussel, but no great hardship for the crab, unless they were caught by one of the other boys. Firecrackers and heavy stones were the tools used in their nature observances.
4. The Pleasure of Procuring One's Own Food.
There's nothing better than to be on a hike in the woods and discover a raspberry or blueberry bush! Imagine, food for the finding, provided by Mother Nature momentarily caught in a good mood. Along these lines, I understand the pleasure of fishing for food. Vegetarianism (and occasional childhood tuna sandwiches) aside, I do now and have always considered any food of aquatic or marine origin to be unequivocably loathesome. (Don't ask me why tuna is exempt. It just is, for some reason.) The nicest thing I can say of seafood is that it is salty. A cooked fish smells no more appetizing to me than a decomposing fish. The same goes for seaweed, mollusks and crustaceans--yes, even that overrated cockroach of the sea, lobster. If one could cast a line into the depths and pull out anything worth eating, then I could see the pleasure of fishing for food. Due to my prejudices, fishing for sustenance rates alongside eating maggots out of the trash.
5. The Pleasure of Killing.
Whether shoving an M-80 into a pumpkinseed's mouth or clubbing a marlin senseless on the back of a chartered boat, fishing enthusiasts love to kill! The pleasure found in snuffing out a life is common to mosquito slappers and serial killers alike. This is one of those dirty truths that no one likes, not even fishermen. Oh, they'll wax poetic and quote Hemingway (who also loved a good bullfight, or war) but the thrill in ending a creature's existence is part of the fun of fishing. I think that it's necessary to human survival, frankly--we never would have made it through the ice ages if we didn't get a charge out of make some creature stop moving for good.
I'm not morally opposed to death, and if I were my outrage would be impotent. All living things must die, and it matters little to the Universe by whose hand they do so. But it's never been a pleasure for me. As I said earlier, I'm not going to eat the damn things, so why should I cause them to die? Even though I've released every fish I've ever caught, I still made two of them die--that I know of.
I kill dozens of mice on a weekly basis. They suffocate, breathing carbon dioxide instead of air, gasping like fish that can't get atmospheric oxygen into their gills. It's with satisfaction that I report that I get no pleasure from this chore. (The birds of prey that I care for, who would probably find great pleasure in killing these mice, are ironically deprived of it.) Like most modern people, I find killing to be an unsettling, sad task. This is one reason why food animals come pre-killed and pre-butchered at the store, reducing carnivorous humans to carrion feeders. Does this mean that fishermen are making a spiritual connection to their noble savage roots, or that they are callous sadists?
All I can say is, don't ask me to fish, and I won't ask you to eat maggots out of the trash. I'd rather drink beer on a boat, or better yet, stand on the shore, doing nothing.
A Personal Recollection and Refutation.
(or "Boy, is it gonna be awkward if my Father-in-Law reads this")
As a boy I occasionally fished, dipping an impaled earthworm into a pond to entice a puny sunfish out. I even owned a fishing rod--a collapsable one of the kind sold on television, treasured more for its value as a gadget than for its practical use. But I haven't fished since my high school graduation party, a weekend-long affair at a Vermont lake. That was the scene of two grisly fishing mishaps, perhaps not coincidentally involving the only fish I've ever caught that weren't sunfish (or "pumpkinseeds" as we called them). One tiny perch swallowed the bait, hook and all, and was found floating the next day with the detached end of the line still sticking out of its gape. And then a bass I released from a high dock hit the water on the second bounce after striking floating wood, and then floated there itself. But these are the pains of fishing, and I intend to speak of its pleasures, and ultimately, why I do not partake in them.
1. The Pleasure of Standing by the Water, Doing Nothing.
The shore is a beautiful place, with the sound of the water gently lapping and the sun dancing on the ripples. With a fishing pole in your hand you can remain there for hours on end, letting the thoughts drift in and out of your head. Without the fishing pole, after a while you look like a dolt; you get tired and bored and sit down; after about 20 minutes, without the futile task of impaling worms and suffocating fish out of the water, you realize there's no reason for you to sit there, and your butt is cold and damp.
2. The Pleasure of Drinking Beer in a Boat.
I've never done this myself, but I understand that its common among anglers. Without fishing, you're some dangerous idiot, drinking beer on a boat. With fishing you're a "sportsman."
3. The Pleasure of Close Interaction with Animals.
In all honesty, this is why I fished. You can turn over rocks to look at bugs, you can visit farms and zoos, but nothing compares to the thrill of dragging an animal out of nature by its lip. Pumpkinseeds aren't the most majestic fish to behold (and you have to watch how you behold them! They can erect their dorsal fin into a row of sharp spines) but fishing is certainly the most efficient way to get a close look at them.
Anyway, I was much better at angling for rock crabs at the seashore. New England's rocky coast and stone breakwaters are terrific habitat for millions of these squat, toadlike crustaceans. I would smash a mussel with a rock, tie a string around it, drop it into a likely crevice, and in no time pull a crab up to the surface. They clung tenaciously to the bait, attached by stubbornness instead of a metal hook. Crabs are also more interesting to observe on land than fish. While fish merely die in slow, silent agony, crabs scuttle about, waving their pincers menacingly, before finding their way back to the cold water. This pastime was surely no fun for the mussel, but no great hardship for the crab, unless they were caught by one of the other boys. Firecrackers and heavy stones were the tools used in their nature observances.
4. The Pleasure of Procuring One's Own Food.
There's nothing better than to be on a hike in the woods and discover a raspberry or blueberry bush! Imagine, food for the finding, provided by Mother Nature momentarily caught in a good mood. Along these lines, I understand the pleasure of fishing for food. Vegetarianism (and occasional childhood tuna sandwiches) aside, I do now and have always considered any food of aquatic or marine origin to be unequivocably loathesome. (Don't ask me why tuna is exempt. It just is, for some reason.) The nicest thing I can say of seafood is that it is salty. A cooked fish smells no more appetizing to me than a decomposing fish. The same goes for seaweed, mollusks and crustaceans--yes, even that overrated cockroach of the sea, lobster. If one could cast a line into the depths and pull out anything worth eating, then I could see the pleasure of fishing for food. Due to my prejudices, fishing for sustenance rates alongside eating maggots out of the trash.
5. The Pleasure of Killing.
Whether shoving an M-80 into a pumpkinseed's mouth or clubbing a marlin senseless on the back of a chartered boat, fishing enthusiasts love to kill! The pleasure found in snuffing out a life is common to mosquito slappers and serial killers alike. This is one of those dirty truths that no one likes, not even fishermen. Oh, they'll wax poetic and quote Hemingway (who also loved a good bullfight, or war) but the thrill in ending a creature's existence is part of the fun of fishing. I think that it's necessary to human survival, frankly--we never would have made it through the ice ages if we didn't get a charge out of make some creature stop moving for good.
I'm not morally opposed to death, and if I were my outrage would be impotent. All living things must die, and it matters little to the Universe by whose hand they do so. But it's never been a pleasure for me. As I said earlier, I'm not going to eat the damn things, so why should I cause them to die? Even though I've released every fish I've ever caught, I still made two of them die--that I know of.
I kill dozens of mice on a weekly basis. They suffocate, breathing carbon dioxide instead of air, gasping like fish that can't get atmospheric oxygen into their gills. It's with satisfaction that I report that I get no pleasure from this chore. (The birds of prey that I care for, who would probably find great pleasure in killing these mice, are ironically deprived of it.) Like most modern people, I find killing to be an unsettling, sad task. This is one reason why food animals come pre-killed and pre-butchered at the store, reducing carnivorous humans to carrion feeders. Does this mean that fishermen are making a spiritual connection to their noble savage roots, or that they are callous sadists?
All I can say is, don't ask me to fish, and I won't ask you to eat maggots out of the trash. I'd rather drink beer on a boat, or better yet, stand on the shore, doing nothing.
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no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 11:53 am (UTC)Gone Fishing
Date: 2005-04-20 12:16 pm (UTC)As for the fishing, it appears you stuck to it longer than I. I last fished when I was ten. I caught a pumpkinseed, ripped it's lips off (by accident) while removing the hook and then the fish threw up on me. I said to myself, "I don't like this game," and never looked back.
Duncan has a real eagerness to go fishing, which is hampered by my near total lack of knowledge about it. Fortunately, they give lessons at one of the state parks out here, and i have a couple friends who are pretty frequent anglers, so I'll let you know how that turns out,
As for eating the damn things, generally I'm with you, though being a starving artist in New Bedford, home of the worlds largest fishing fleet teaches you a certain appreciation. All you can eat fish and chips nights may have saved me from eating my paint. I've marinated and cooked a few things recently that were quite tasty and didn't smell like Revere beach at low tide,
As for the lobsters, anything with a carapace is right out. You can't convince me that it's not a bug, and the fact that they have to eviscerate (de-vein) a lot of that stuff is not a selling point. My four year old daughter on the other hand will plow through a plate of shrimp like there's no tomorrow.
Re: Gone Fishing
Date: 2005-04-20 12:48 pm (UTC)Damn, I've got to stop posting things in public at 4:30 AM
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 06:18 pm (UTC)The end-all-be-all rumination on fishing as a casual pastime, and what it means to many modern humans, must be George Orwell's novel 'Coming Up For Air.' A WWI veteran, in his forties with a wife he's growing to dislike, three kids he doesn't understand, a useless job and new false teeth (he IS English, after all) plays hookey from work to go fishing in the ponds of his childhood.
Thanks to the wonder of the internet and the security of cubicle walls, I can grab a quote from it and post it here, all while pretending to be busy at my work.
"But the thought of fishing sent me wild
with excitement. Many a time I'd been past the pool at the Mill
Farm and watched the small carp basking on the surface, and
sometimes under the willow tree at the corner a great diamond-
shaped carp that to my eyes looked enormous--six inches long, I
suppose--would suddenly rise to the surface, gulp down a grub, and
sink again. I'd spent hours gluing my nose against the window of
Wallace's in the High Street, where fishing tackle and guns and
bicycles were sold. I used to lie awake on summer mornings
thinking of the tales Joe had told me about fishing, how you mixed
bread paste, how your float gives a bob and plunges under and you
feel the rod bending and the fish tugging at the line. Is it any
use talking about it, I wonder--the sort of fairy light that fish
and fishing tackle have in a kid's eyes? Some kids feel the same
about guns and shooting, some feel it about motor-bikes or
aeroplanes or horses. It's not a thing that you can explain or
rationalize, it's merely magic. "
Lovely stuff. Why am I at work again?
--G
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 06:26 pm (UTC)--G
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 06:54 pm (UTC)I always thought it was disgusting seeing people fishing in the Charles. I was however recently informed by a friend who fishes there that most of the fish don't actually live in the Charles, they are just passing through. I thought that was so cool that you could go sit along the Charles all day and catch yourself a fish and make meal of it the same night.
Unfortunately, the thought of having to bait the worm, unhook the fish, then gutting it really puts me off. I'm one of those people who can feel bad for two days if I step on an ant by accident. But unlike you, I do eat fish so I feel like I should be able to kill them. So who knows. It was nice to read this little essay to get some more insight on the subject. Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 07:23 pm (UTC)There were like 50billiontrillionzillion people fishing at Leverett and Jamaica Ponds this past sunday. I hope it's just for fun.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 07:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 08:31 pm (UTC)Anyway, Alexis is at least partly right. Any fish that has lived a full life in the Charles river watershed (any of our local rivers and streams) is likely to be contaminated with mercury.
At Jamaica Pond, and some other places, they actually put fish in ("stock" fish)that have been raised in captivity elsewhere, solely for the purpose of providing fish for fishing.
Here's a list of ponds that the Mass Wildlife Dept. stocks with fish.
I often wonder about the people I see fishing on the rivers and ponds. It takes a long time to die of mercury poisoning.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 04:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 10:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-09 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-20 08:54 pm (UTC)Based on mercury and pcb contamination, "children younger than 12 years, pregnant women, and nursing mothers should not eat" carp or largemouth bass from the Charles. "The general public should limit consumption of [carp and largemouth bass] to two meals per month."
These are the two species of fish that were tested for these two contaminants. I would hazard a guess that other fish in the river might be similarly contamintated.
As far as fish that are "just passing through" the Charles:
"...According to Phil Brady of the Division of Marine Fisheries, it is probably safe to eat blueback herring and alewife, the anadromous fish species that primarily live in saltwater but that migrate up the Charles in late spring to spawing grounds."
So check your fish carefully! You may want to bring a field guide so you know which ones to throw back and which ones to gut and cook up.
no subject
Date: 2005-04-21 12:34 pm (UTC)